Free Fiction River: Moonscapes by Fiction River Page B

worlds and capture it in her art.
    “Analysis,” Hydra stated. The screen on her far right no longer showed a view of the planet, but had instead engaged the spectrascope and spewed chemical data onto the screen in neat rows and columns. “Charon presents a clear spectral signature of H 2 O ice in the crystalline phase, plus an absorption band near 2.2 μm identified as a hydrated form of NH 3 .”
    In other words, frozen water was the primary component of Charon with a small amount of ammonia. No presence of methane or carbon monoxide like Pluto.
    Carrie sighed and started the next file for a new drawing. This one would not be sent until her plan for freedom was realized. She titled it Home .
    Over the next two years, Carrie sent more than a thousand renderings of Charon to the planetary art markets. Some were realistic, while others were romanticized. It was the latter that brought the most money into the prison system. She should have felt angry about that, but she didn’t. For the first time in her life, she felt an important part of something—something beyond any personal relationship she’d had on Earth.
    Carrie was sure that those on Earth could now see a reflection of the deep love she felt for the moon. In addition to her digital paintings she would compose new music and use it to animate the turns from day to night, from sunlight to dark. She now thought of Charon as a planet, not a moon. She and Charon were becoming of one mind. She was indeed Charon now.
    “You are released from your sleeping couch, Prisoner of Charon.” After two years in a stable orbit, Earth administration had finally granted Carrie’s request to walk on her own.
    Carefully, she placed her feet on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. She hadn’t felt the floor for years. It was a strange feeling to have that solid surface and the simulated partial gravity beneath her feet once more.
    She scooted to the edge of the bed and pushed up to stand. Her legs wobbled but supported her. Intellectually, she knew they would because the bots had exercised her muscles several times each day. But her heart hadn’t been sure. It had been so long since she’d stood she wasn’t a hundred percent certain that her mind and body would cooperate.
    Carrie shuffled one foot forward and then another. She could balance too. Amazing what the body and brain could agree to do. Gingerly, she lifted one foot to balance completely on the other. As she tilted to one side she reached to the wall to steady herself. It would take practice to dance again. She laughed. No worries. She had plenty of time to relearn. She would compose the dance of Charon with music, and paintings, and perhaps one day even with words.
    Today she would stand at the screen instead of lying in her bed. Today she would show herself one with Charon for all to see.
    “Thank you,” Carrie responded, breaking her years of silence with Hydra. “We are grateful.”
    Over the next five years, Carrie’s output increased. Now that she could move and dance, touch things beyond her bed, her creativity amplified tenfold. The communications coming from Earth-Space administration indicated they were ecstatic with her output. It seemed that Earth art collectors always wanted more inventory. Her digital paintings were being exhibited in galleries throughout the world. Her musical compositions and animations of Charon were becoming important backdrops in new theater and movie productions. The name of The Prisoner of Charon had exceeded all other moon prisoners combined. The amount of money coming into the prison system was staggering. The subliminal message in her paintings of the moon of Charon standing up to Pluto heightened the confidence of advocates for rehabilitation instead of isolation. In response the Earth-Space administration was required to fund rehabilitation efforts again.
    Carrie was satisfied. It was time to implement her plan.
    She stared out the viewing port, waiting to pass between